


Stood Up 2

by WithDemonWings



Series: Stood Up [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-25
Updated: 2012-09-25
Packaged: 2017-11-15 00:12:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/520988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WithDemonWings/pseuds/WithDemonWings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt is still trying to wrap his brain around how he'd had a date with Noah Puckerman. He goes to find Blaine to find  out if he's incapacitated or something worse. Kurt and Puck have the dreaded after talk and Burt wonders when he missed his son growing up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stood Up 2

**Author's Note:**

> Puck's mum makes an appearance, and she's not a nice woman. I wasn't sure what to tag being kicked out so if you have any suggestions...

It wasn’t until Kurt was humming along to Hairspray as he worked on his night time skin care regime, that he realized just what exactly had just happened. He’d had a _date_ with Noah Puckerman.

He’d shared popcorn and M&Ms with Puckerman as they bickered over who was better looking Chris Hemsworth, (Kurt preferred his men with some bulk) or Tom Hiddleston (Puck preferred the slighter build). They both ogled the armour, and found their inner nerds over Diablo, and a mutual appreciation for Natalie Portman.

After the movie, Puck had insisted they go to dinner. Kurt had tried to tell him that he didn’t have to, but Puck was relentless as he all but shoved Kurt into the passenger seat of his beat up pick up.

Kurt had insisted that Puck bring the truck to the garage the next morning so he could do something about the infernal rattling in the exhaust and clanking in the engine.

“And what the hell is that smell, Puckerman?”

Of course Puck had no idea what smell Kurt was talking about. At least that’s what he said, his knowing smirk on the other hand…

_Puck_ had paid for dinner at a restaurant that wasn’t Breadstix. Another mutual dislike they discovered, along with the nauseating “Finchel” drama and anything regarding Rachel when she was in Diva mode. They both had soft spots for her, but she was just so… irritating and self-involved that it was hard to like her most of the time.

Kurt had surprised Puck by ordering a cheeseburger that was almost the size of his head, with fries. Puck hadn’t surprised Kurt when he ordered 2 pounds of Cajun dusted chicken wings. It had been the blue cheese dressing that had surprised Kurt. Not even he liked blue cheese.

After dinner, which they sort of shared when Puck kept stealing Kurt’s fries and Kurt snagged one or four wings, the pair had just walked. Their shoulders brushed on occasion as Puck apologised for being an epic jerk, and that he wasn’t as straight as everyone thought. Sure he liked the ladies, but he liked the men just as much. When Kurt told him about Karofsky, he only just managed to keep Puck from storming over to Karofsky’s and beating the shit out of the other teen.

When Puck had dropped Kurt off at home, and Kurt had extracted a blood vow from Puck to absolutely, under no circumstances go after Karofsky, Puck walked Kurt to the door.

Puck pulled Kurt into a chaste, but passionate kiss.

With a soft smile that Kurt only ever remembered Puck giving to Beth, he said good night and climbed back into his death trap of a truck.

As far as first dates go, Kurt thought it had been a pretty spectacular one.

He sighed sadly as he capped his face cream.

He’d been on a date with Noah Puckerman, now he only had to wait for the other shoe to drop. Before that happened, he decided to find out why Blaine had neglected to call him.

~*~

Kurt drummed absently against the stirring wheel as he watched the front doors of Dalton Academy. His fingers fell silent and he wondered if it was really wide to do this; to confront Blaine. But he wanted to know why Blaine had yet to call him. Hoping he wouldn’t have to go in, that Blaine would be going somewhere this afternoon.

His mind drifted and he found himself trying to wrap his mind around the fact that he’d had a date with Noah “Puck” Puckerman, jock and asshat extraordinaire; the same Puck who had been Kurt’s tormentor through most of their middle and high school careers.

He shook his head to dislodge that train; he really should focus on the Blaine puzzle and not the Puck puzzle since he was here at Dalton waiting for Blaine. It might be easier.

A group of rowdy upperclassmen came barrelling out of the doors, laughing and shoving one another, followed by a more sedate pair of boys that Kurt was almost positive was Blaine.

He stepped out of his baby, which he’d purposely parked next to Blaine’s mystery mobile when he was sure that Blaine was part of the pair.

No one noticed him until the boy he remembered seeing with Blaine at the movie theater stopped short when he noticed Kurt leaning against his door.

“Who the hell are you?” he demanded haughtily.

“Someone more important than you,” Kurt replied pushing himself off the door and walking around the car to face Blaine.

“What the Anderson?” Kurt snarled as he slammed Blaine’s door.

“Kurt?” Blaine had jumped back in surprise and had let out a rather unmanly squeal.

“Yes. Remember me? The guy you were supposed to meet up with on Friday after school to go to the movies with. To see a movie you wanted to see, and I vehemently did not.”

Blaine flinched, “I’m so sorry, Kurt. I totally forgot.”

“Really?” Kurt started, one eyebrow raised so high it almost disappeared into his hairline. “I find that hard to believe because I called and texted you like a dozen times.”

Blaine’s whole face darkened as he stepped into Kurt’s space. “You know, that sounds a little stalker-ish to me.”

“You didn’t call to cancel?” The other teen, who Kurt had forgotten about cut into the conversation, “the least you could’ve-”

“Stay out of this Kent,” Blaine cut off what he was going to say and glared at both of them.

“No, I won’t stay out of it Blaine. You blew off someone for some guy?”

“Not just any guy. You baby,” Blaine said too sweetly as he pulled Kent against him tightly.

Kent surprised both Kurt and Blaine by shoving Blaine away, “you know how I feel about people being stood up and seemingly abandoned. I’m sorry Kurt, I had no idea he was such a jerk,” Kent offered with a gentle hand on Kurt’s arm before turning a fierce glare at Blaine. “You fix this. You fucked this up, Blaine. You had a great friendship with Kurt and you screwed it up. All it would’ve taken was a phone call,” Kent ranted, before he gave a sigh of disgust and stormed off toward the school.

“Kent, wait!” Blaine called, about to run after him.

“Fix it,” Kent yelled back, flipping Blaine off.

Blaine sighed, he knew he should but… he was scared. He finally turned to Kurt, finding him leaning against his car.

“Kurt,” he began, sounding unsure.

“Look Blaine, I may have crowded you with all those calls and texts, but I was worried about you. If you had called me back or texted me to explain I would’ve understood. I was beginning to care about you and you seemed like a nice guy. And in all honesty I was only really looking for a friend; the fact that we had a mutual attraction was an added bonus. I’m the only out kid at my school and it can be pretty fucking lonely sometimes. I just wanted a friend who knew what it was like.” Kurt was rather proud that his voice hadn’t wavered at all. He was surprisingly close to crying and he didn’t really want to in front of Blaine.

“I’m sorry Kurt, I pulled a jerk move. I should’ve called and explained it to you but I couldn’t.  I was scared, and it was totally selfish of me, but I didn’t know if you would show up alone or bring someone else along and I was stupid. And then I saw you alone, like two hours after I was supposed to meet you and I realized I’d been an ass to you. I had done to you what I was afraid you were going to do to me. I was an idiot and I couldn’t explain Kent, I’d been half in love with him since like seventh grade,” he trailed off, not knowing how to go on.

“I would’ve understood. I would’ve been disappointed but I would’ve understood,” Kurt said softly. Blaine flinched at the sadness in Kurt’s voice.

“I am sorry Kurt,” Blaine offered, reaching out to give Kurt’s arm a gentle squeeze. Kurt stepped out of his reach.

“Yeah, well it’s a little too late now,” he shot back as he headed back to his own car, intent on getting home as soon as possible.

“Hey Kurt?” Blaine followed Kurt around the car. Kurt didn’t turn to look at Blaine so he forged on, “think, that maybe we could still be friends?” If Kurt had bothered to look he would’ve found Blaine scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

Instead he froze; his hand on the handle of his door. Did he want to be friends with Blaine? Yeah, okay maybe, just a little. Kent seemed like a decent guy, but he didn’t know if he could stand Blaine at this point in time.

With a heavy sigh, he pulled open his door, “I don’t know.”

Blaine nodded even if Kurt couldn’t see him. “I am sorry,” he tried again. Kurt just slammed the door.

Watching the Navigator, Blaine was impressed with how Kurt could handle the large vehicle. It was horrible to think but he hadn’t expected a guy like Kurt to be able to handle one. He dropped back against his own car, he felt like all kinds of moron.

Not only had he screwed up with Kurt but he was pretty sure Kent was less than impressed with him.

~*~

Kurt waited until he couldn’t see Dalton in his rear view mirror before pulling off to the side of the road and resting his head on his arms that were crossed on over the steering wheel.

He felt lighter despite having potentially lost a friend in both Blaine and Kent.

But he was also scared shitless. He hadn’t seen, or heard from, Puck since their Thor-date, which had only been two nights ago, but he had no idea how his former bully would react to seeing him. Would they be friends? Ignore each other? Go back to the dumpster dives? With a sigh he started up the Navigator and headed home.

~*~

“You guys suck hairy monkey balls,” Puck stated as he shoved his guitar into a surprised Artie’s hands and wheeled him to the front door. Artie had no idea what was going through Puck’s head but he was more than willing to go with Puck if it meant not having to watch them all dance.

“Where you going?” Finn asked, breathless from his fumbling round with whatever dance game he was losing to Sam and Mike.

“Some place that isn’t here,” Puck replied, as he skilfully manoeuvred Artie’s chair out the door and down the stairs of Mike’s front door.

“Why?” Sam asked, downing half a bottle of water.

“Have any of you even asked what Artie or me wanted to play?” Puck demanded with a scowl.

“It’s okay guys,” Artie tried to protest as he was manhandled into Puck’s truck as Sam, Mike and Finn watched from the front step.

“Sorry Artie,” Finn shouted too loudly as he waved. Artie waved back as Puck gave them the finger.

The ride to Puck’s place silent, Puck tapping a nervous rhythm on the steering wheel as Artie flicked through the radio stations, but finding nothing but ads, news, too cheery bubble-gum pop and depressing country.

It wasn’t until they were set up in Puck’s living room with four different types of pop, three different chip flavours, a gummie zoo, melting ice cream, Cheezies and controllers in hand as they tried to kill each other and hoards of zombies that Artie broke the silence.

“Spill Puckerman,” he demanded as he annihilated Puck, again.

“I bailed on last night because I took Kurt to see Thor,” Puck blurted before he heaved a morose sigh and flopped over, his controller dangling from his limp hand.

“I never took you for the dramatic type,” Artie smirked.

“Shut up, Abrams,” Puck scowled as he sat up again. Clear determination on his face as he set about killing as many zombies as possible. As he after Artie the entire story tumbled out of his mouth.

From when he’d found Kurt crying and cursing Blaine, who the boy had only just been singing the praises of the day before, to how they had been planning on going to a car movie to which Artie had blurted,

“A car? Everyone knows that Kurt cries like a four year old girl when one of those vintage muscle cars gets abused. He was a mess for weeks after the Impala was totalled.”

Puck had been rather vocal in his displeasure about the scene as well and Artie smirked at the memory the pair as they bonded over the show. They’d been like gossiping teenage girls, and no matter how often Schue had yelled at them, they had carried on and completely ignoring their teacher, and the amused looks from their classmates.

“He’s awesome and I felt bad about leaving him alone, but he insisted he would be fine,” Puck finished and Artie realized that he had missed most of Puck’s story.

“If you like him, then maybe you should just talk to him,” he suggested wen Puck looked at him expectantly.

Puck blinked, and blinked again. “About what?” he snorted.

“About what a good time you had, the movie, what you did after the movie, Kurt’s favourite anything; Tell him about your sister. Your dad,” Artie listed to the bigger boy.

Puck stared at Artie like he’d never seem him before in his life, and grinned.

~*~

Everyone slowly filtered out of the choir room on Monday afternoon. Kurt had avoided Puck all day and Puck had actively not looked for Kurt, both had been successful. So much so that their friends had noticed and had made sure that they were the last two left.

Kurt noticed first and sent a rude text to Mercedes who only waved from the window in the door, laughing with Quinn and Santana.

Puck sighed, flipping off everyone who was watching. Kurt rolled his eyes, as he organized his already organized bag.

“Look, Hum- Kurt, can we, uh, can we talk?” Puck shoved his hands into his pockets so he wouldn’t fidget any more than he already was as he shifted nervously from foot to foot.

“I get it. Friday never happened. I won’t tell anyone, I haven’t told anyone. I just… thank you for not being a jerk about it,” Kurt replied, not looking at the shocked expression that Puck wore. Puck couldn’t help but think that Kurt sounded too sad for the confidence he was wearing, he sounded resigned.

“Wait, what?” Puck stared after Kurt, who was almost at the door and glaring at whoever was on the other side and not moving.

Kurt let out a startled yelp as Puck grabbed is hand and tugged him back. He lost his balance and fell against Puck, who held him tightly.

“So not what I meant,” he stated suddenly manhandling Kurt around so he could pull the slighter teen into a heated kiss.

The cheering from outside the room had Kurt reluctantly pulling away from Puck, who looked incredibly disappointed.

“Our friends are epic douche bags,” Puck muttered into Kurt’s neck, where he had buried his face. Fuck Kurt smelled amazing, like cookies and sawdust and the ocean, all of Puck’s favourites. How had he not noticed before?

Kurt gave a laugh; a real, true belly laugh that was a little bit infectious as Puck gave his own laugh.

“I have to pick up coffee stuffs for my dad and the guys at the garage, you can come with me? We can do that talking thing you wanted,” he trailed off nervous all over again.

“Sounds good,” Puck agreed, yanking the door open causing Rachel, Sam and Quinn, to tumble into the room. With a grin, he scooped Kurt into his arms, stepped over the pile of limbs, smirked at the others who were either trying to help the others to their feet or staring at Kurt and Puck, before finally setting a flustered Kurt on his feet.

“You really didn’t-”

“I wanted to,” Puck cut off Kurt’s protest before taking his hand and dragging him down the hall and out the doors.

~*~

“Oh. My. Ghost.” Kurt breathed as he caught sight of Puck’s truck. “What in the name of working class… oh baby what has he done to you?” he whispered as he ran his hand along the rusted and dented hood that had probably once been a royal blue but was now too faded and chipped to tell.

Puck looked affronted; he took perfectly good care of his truck thankyouverymuch. Yeah she looked a little worse for wear but she ran just fine.

“What the hell are you doing?” Puck asked, wondering just when Kurt had popped the hood.

Random spluttering came from under the hood for several moments before Kurt pulled himself out and tried not to slam the hood down, but the latch was tricky and he ended up slamming it shut anyway. He whispered an apology as he rubbed the hood with a gentle caress. He then turned a fierce glare on Puck, who actually backed up a little, not that he would ever admit it.

“I don’t even… have… what… no words. Other than putting gas in, do even do anything else to keep her running smoothly?” Kurt finally managed to ask.

Puck spluttered and puffed up indignantly. “Yes, of course. I change the oil and put in anti-freeze and stuff,” he trailed off not pouting.

Kurt rolled his eyes before pinching the bridge of his nose with a muttered, “Rolls _Royce_.” Puck just knew, mostly by the way Kurt stressed the last word, that he wanted to say something much, much worse. Having been on the end of one of Kurt’s wrathful tirades, Puck was glad that was all he said.

 With one hand on his hip and the other rubbing his temple, Kurt glared at Puck.

“Dude, if Snape and Malfoy had a love child…” Puck blurted before he could stop himself. The pair fell silent, Kurt with one eyebrow raised as Puck tried not to blush, but failing spectacularly.

Then Kurt started to giggle, which quickly turned to full out laughter at Puck’s gobsmacked expression. “And you look like the love child of Judd Nelson from The Breakfast Club and Xander Harris; the one that’s not so dorky, but still dorky enough to make a Harry Potter reference.”

Puck spluttered, he knew Xander, but that other guy, “who? I mean I know the Buffy dude, but not that other dude.”

Kurt could only stare at Puck in wonder, “all the movie-thons you’ve been a part of and you missed the… never mind. You take this truck to my dad’s garage while I get the coffee and I’ll meet you there.”

“Your dad’s garage? Oh holy mother of all things Jewish, why hasn’t your dad murdered me in my sleep?” Puck asked, clearly terrified of Kurt’s dad.

Kurt snorted, “because he kinda likes you now.”

“What? Why?” as a general rule parents didn’t like Puck.

Kurt gave a shrug, “you remind him of himself when he was our age.”

Puck gaped at Kurt, his mouth was moving but he wasn’t making any sound.

“Just head over to the garage, tell him you’re waiting for me and that your truck is my final project and that I’m on my way,” Kurt offered with an amused smirk as he patted Puck’s arm.

“I’m gonna die. I’m going to die,” Puck muttered as he climbed into his truck. He watched Kurt climb into his before driving off. A honk from the black Navigator had him starting his engine and peeling out of the parking lot.

~*~

Puck and Kurt sat on the tailgate of Kurt’s truck in front of Puck’s house, sitting their coffee and hot chocolate in an awkward silence.

“Thanks, for the hot chocolate,” Puck offered, lifting his cup to Kurt, who tapped his own cup against Puck’s lightly.

“I know you don’t like coffee,” he trailed off; it had been one of the hundred and three things that they’d talked about. They fell into an awkward silence again, both staring at their cups.

Something shattering in the house they were sitting in front of, followed by shouting had them both shifting uncomfortably.

“I knew he wouldn’t last long,” Puck offered quietly.

“Come on,” Kurt tugged on Puck’s free hand.

“Where?”

“My house, it’s quieter there and we should talk. You can crash on the couch if you need to,” he replied.

Puck sighed and nodded, “I just need to get some stuff first.”

“Are you sure?” Kurt asked when there was more shouting from the house. The pair stood side by side in the middle of the street, watching the house in silence as they listened to the yelling. They couldn’t understand what was being said, and they were pretty sure they didn’t want to.

“Yeah, I have a project and a couple of essays I want to finish before the game. Stay here,” he commanded softly. Kurt just nodded as Puck headed inside.

Ten minutes later Puck was followed out the door by a shoe, a vase that shattered just behind him and a knife that clattered off the walkway to Puck’s left.

He was carrying two duffle bags and a backpack that had a few loose papers fluttering to the ground. He also had a pillow stuffed under one arm that seemed to have more things shoved into it. Kurt was amazed that he’d gotten so much stuff in the amount of time he’d been in the house.

“You’re no son of mine, you ungrateful bastard!”

Kurt winced but took one of the bags from Puck and tossed it into the Navigator.

“I should’ve thrown you out a long time ago,” the woman continued yelling, while a man stood in the doorway looking way too smug for Kurt’s liking.

“Just…” Puck trailed off, not really sure what to say.

“You can stay for as long as you need too,” Kurt offered softly, giving Puck’s bicep a comforting squeeze.

Puck just nodded, leaning against the cool window. Kurt sighed and drove home.

~*~

“I’m sorry,” Puck offered from where he was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, hands shoved in his pockets, staring at the floor.

Kurt surprised Puck by pulling the bigger boy into a hug, “you don’t have to apologize for anything.” It took a moment but then Puck buried himself in Kurt’s neck, and the pair just held each other.

Puck pulled away from Kurt, blushing in embarrassment and shame. He was about to apologize again but Kurt cut him off with a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“The only thing you have to apologize for is if you use the last of something and don’t replace it or let anyone know,” Kurt offered with a small smile.

Puck gave a small chuckle, “Finn is horrible at that.”

“I know! He finished the toilet paper and didn’t change the roll or get more. And he used all the eggs and Carole went to make cookies but couldn’t and he got all pouty about not having cookies and she yelled at him about how he uses everything but never tells anyone what needs replacing,” Kurt ranted. “Then she threw an empty box of cereal at his head and made him go grocery shopping with her. He still has to go every time.”

“Does he get pouty when he doesn’t get what he wants?”

“He refused to talk to any of us for three days last week because he didn’t get his peanut butter ice cream,” Kurt replied with a smirk. “We still haven’t told him there’s some in the freezer in the basement.”

Puck let out a startled laugh. He realized that despite what had happened at his house, it felt good to laugh.

He ogled Kurt as the other teen bent to rummage in the fridge, and was surprised when an opened bottle of beer was shoved into his hand.

“After an incident with Miss. Pillsbury’s shoes, my dad thought it better that I develop a tolerance for alcohol. He doesn’t mind Finn or I having a beer with dinner every now and again, and I’m pretty sure he’d be offering you one after the night you had,” he explained, leading Puck into the living room where he dropped onto the couch and wrestled with his boots before kicking them off and sighing in relief as he propped his feet on the coffee table and wriggled his toes.

Puck knew that Kurt was a guy, most of his skin tight designer jeans made sure of that, but he was pretty sure he’d never seen Kurt act so much like one ever.

“That’s hot,” Puck stated as he joined Kurt after toeing off his own sneakers.

Kurt tried to hide his blush behind his bottle as he took a long drink.

Puck decided that the long awkward silences they kept falling into had to go.

“I don’t want to forget about Friday,” he stated, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. “You’re way cooler than I thought you were. You put on this Ice Prince cover to hide behind, and I want to get to know you. Get to know Kurt and not the million and three masks you hide behind for the rest of the world. I want to find out if I can beat you at Mario, watch your favourite movie with you, hell watch mine. I want to find out what else we have in common, maybe take you out again,” he babbled as he stared at Kurt’s stunned face. There was something about Kurt that threw Puck off kilter, always had been; it had been part of why he’d picked on him.

Kurt studied Puck, he wasn’t really sure what he was looking for, but he didn’t see any hate or anger – just hope and a bit of fear mixed with a hint of cockiness. Typical Puck.

He gave Puck a genuine smile, “I’d like that, Noah.”

Wrapping an arm around Kurt, Puck tugged him into his side and Kurt gave a surprised squawk but nestled into Puck’s side.

A few hours later Burt found them still on the couch, only their empty beer bottles were sitting on the table and Puck was stretched out across the couch, with Kurt practically on top of him. There was a horror movie playing on the screen, something about a cabin in the middle of nowhere. He shook his head and went to give his son a gentle shake to wake him but a hand on his own shoulder stopped him.

Carole gave them a small smile, “let them be.”

Burt gave the pair another look and Kurt made an adorable sleep snuffle and burrowed into Puck just a little bit more while Puck turned his head to rest against Kurt’s and tightened his arms around Kurt. Burt sighed and pulled the blanket off the chair, draping it over his son and his new boyfriend.

He let Carole pull him out of the living room and up the stairs.

“When did he grow up?” he asked softly, when they’d curled up in their own bed.

“I don’t know. I’m still in denial about Finn,” she replied kissing his cheek.

“He’s always going to six, with a skinned knee and his princess bandages.”

“You’re always going to have kiss everything better,” she offered with a sleepy slur.

Burt gave a soft sigh and kissed his wife’s head. He knew this day would eventually come. He knew that his son would eventually find a boyfriend and that boy better treat his son like the prince he is because-

His train was derailed by a quiet but stern, “Burt.”

“Sorry,” he muttered, getting a gentle pat to the chest for his trouble. Carole rolled away from him and settled on her side.

Burt continued to stare at the ceiling. First it was a boyfriend, and then he’d be graduating high school and going off to New York and leaving Burt and-

“They are 16, they aren’t going anywhere anytime soon. And when they do, he’ll call and you’ll Skype and he’ll come home and we’ll go visit. You won’t lose Kurt. He loves you.” Carole was leaning on her elbow, glaring at her husband.

“I… are you psychic?” he asked. They needed to stop watching all those ghost hunting shows.

Carole gave a light laugh, “No, but you’ve been thinking way too loudly since you found the boys on the couch.”

“Was I?”

Carole only nodded, running a hand over Burt’s smooth head before kissing him.

“Just, I feel like I missed so much… where did my little boy go?” He tried blinking back the tears that suddenly assaulted him, and hoped that she didn’t see or hear them.

“He didn’t go anywhere,” she replied, brushing his tears away. “He’s still there; he’s just a little bigger.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled as he gave her another kiss.

“Don’t worry about it Bear, just remember this when I have my freak out about my own son,” she teased.

Burt chuckled softly, “I make no promises.”

With a chaste kiss and soft laugh, Carole settled into sleep, leaving Burt to stare at the ceiling, remembering his baby boy until he fell asleep.

~*~

Kurt and Puck stumbled into the kitchen the next morning, both blushing madly when they found Burt and Carole eating breakfast.

“Hi, Dad, Carole,” Kurt stammered as he tried to pull his hand away from Puck, who only held on tighter.

“Mr. H, Mum,” Puck offered, giving Carole a quick peck as he tugged Kurt to the table.

“You boys sleep alright last night?” Carole asked, setting a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of Burt before making more.

“Haven’t slept that well in forever,” Puck replied with a soft grin directed at Kurt, who blushed and toyed with a fork.

“Kurt?” Burt settled the hand that was tapping the fork and Kurt looked up at his dad with a small smile.

“It’s so new, I haven’t even taken it out of the wrapper,” he replied, linking his hand with his father’s.

“What about that other boy, Blaise?”

Both Kurt and Puck snickered, “Blaine,” Kurt corrected. “He… We were supposed to go to the movies on Friday, some car movie,” both Hummel’s shuddered, “but he never showed. Puck happened to be there with some of the guys, and he saw me. He took me to see Thor and we went to dinner.”

“I know I don’t have the greatest reputation, sir, but I care about Kurt. A lot, and I want to make him happy. And we’re going at his pace. I won’t force him to do something he doesn’t want to sir. Besides I’m pretty sure he could kick my ass if he wanted to,” Puck replied with a smirk.

“I don’t know if I trust you, Puckerman, but I trust my son, and Carole thinks you’re a good kid, but if you do anything to hurt my boy, they won’t ever find out what happened to you. We clear?” Burt stated, still holding onto Kurt’s hand.

“Crystal, sir,” Puck replied with a nod and a squeeze to Kurt’s hand. “This is as new to me, as it is to Kurt. I want to do this right.”

“Aren’t we late for school?” Kurt suddenly asked.

“We called in for you,” Carole replied. “You both have to go tomorrow, but today I thought we go get some stuff for Noah to make the guest room his.”

Both Puck and Kurt gaped at Carole.

“We ran into your mom last night,” she offered, giving Puck’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. “She was with her new boyfriend. I think they’d been drinking before they got to dinner.”

Puck sighed and dropped his head to the table. Kurt rubbed his back as Carole and Burt watched them have a quiet conversation.

“When we stopped at Noah’s yesterday, they were fighting and throwing things. He just wanted to grab some school work and some clothes but when he came out, she followed. Yelling at him and throwing things, she kicked him out,” Kurt explained.

“You’re staying here, so long as you-”

“Dad!” Kurt cut him off. “Please stop threatening my boyfriend.”

Burt sighed, “No funny business.”

“He’s really just a big teddy bear,” Carole teased as she hugged Burt from behind. Burt growled but Kurt and Carole just laughed.

“You don’t have to put me up, I can-”

“You can shut up and say thank you and make dinner once a week like Finn and Kurt do, and do your chores and maybe do a night or two at the garage,” Burt cut him off.

“Right sir. Of course sir. Thank you sir,” Puck replied sheepishly.

“Enough with the ‘sir’ business; call me Burt,” he offered with a hint of smile.

Puck just nodded, not really sure what to say.

“Why don’t you boys get ready? We have a lot to do today,” Carole suggested, breaking the heavy silence that settled over the table.

Kurt nodded and tugged Puck to his room. Kurt showered first and as he worked through getting ready as Puck was in the bathroom, he realised that things had worked out pretty well.

Yeah he had no idea if he would ever talk to Blaine again, but he knew he probably would eventually.

But he’d gotten a boyfriend out of it; one who was willing to go at his pace. He’d gotten his boyfriend out of a bad situation at home. He had no idea what was going to happen, but it didn’t seem so daunting anymore.

“Where’d you go?” Puck asked, pulling Kurt back to his room with a soft kiss to his shoulder.

“Just thinking,” Kurt replied, capping a cream and setting in on the vanity.

“About what?”

Kurt smiled softly before giving Puck a soft, chaste kiss, “you.”

Puck gave him a cocky grin, but before he could say anything Carole knocked on the door, “you just about ready?”

“Yep, I think so,” Kurt replied, pulling a reluctant Puck to his feet.

Puck followed the pair, who chatted about what they needed to get, which seemed like a lot since the guestroom was currently serving as a sort catchall for everyone’s stuff that didn’t have a home. It wasn’t messy but there were a few boxes that hadn’t been unpacked yet, and Kurt’s sewing table, and Carole’s paints. It wouldn’t take long to clean it out but Carole and Kurt wanted to shop first.

Puck hadn’t expected things to turn out the way they had. The Hudmels didn’t have to do what they were doing for him, but he knew that it wouldn’t be much use telling them. He was Finn’s best friend, at least he thought he was, and he was Kurt’s boyfriend, and wasn’t that just a kick in the balls. The girls were going to flip, and he wasn’t sure if it would be a good thing or bad thing. He was basically family already. Of course Carole had been more of a mother to him than his own had been so it really shouldn’t have been a surprise.

He screwed up royally before, with Quinn and going to Juvie but he wasn’t going to screw this up; being with Kurt, being accepted by his father, who had every right to kick him out.

“Si- Burt?” he asked as he tentatively placed a hand on the older man’s shoulder.

When he turned around, Puck began to babble, “I just wanted to thank you, because you don’t have to do any of this for me. I could’ve stayed somewhere else and I still can, if you want. I don’t deserve what you’re offering and I just-”

Burt surprised Puck by pulling the teen into a tight hug, “you’re welcome. Now go tell Kurt you don’t want the periwinkle sheets, but the royal blue ones before he throws something at us and accuses us of not listening.”

“Hey Noah, do you want the Spider-Man sheets or the Superman ones?”

“Aren’t there any Mario ones? Oh what about Transformers?” he asked jogging over to where Kurt was examining the sheets.

Burt shook his head as he joined Carole who was watching the boys in amusement.

Okay so yeah, his baby boy was growing up but he was still his baby boy who was now clutching tightly to the Finding Nemo sheets and giving him the worst (or would that be the best?) set of puppy dog eyes he’d ever seen. He must have been practicing.

 


End file.
